


FebuWhump2021 Day 10: "I'm sorry, I didn't know"

by startrekkingaroundasgard



Series: FebuWhump2021 [10]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Drinking, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Sex, Non-Consensual Touching, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Relationship, Rough Kissing, Sakaar (Marvel), Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:08:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29083653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startrekkingaroundasgard/pseuds/startrekkingaroundasgard
Summary: AU where Loki meets Brunnhilde in a bar on Sakaar before everything goes down. Despite her initial reservations, she can’t resist her interest and they start talking. However, a revelation about Hela from Loki send Brunnhilde spiralling.
Relationships: Brunnhilde | Valkyrie/Loki (Marvel)
Series: FebuWhump2021 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2156145
Kudos: 14





	FebuWhump2021 Day 10: "I'm sorry, I didn't know"

“Is this seat taken?”

Brunnhilde shoved her glass across the bar and, without looking up, grumbled, “Yes.”

Unfortunately, the man didn’t take the hint. He tapped twice on the metallic surface and gestured for the bartend to fill her cup, subtly sweeping it back along to her. He then claimed the empty seat as his own and propped an elbow against the bar. “You’ve been here a while.”

She shrugged. Hours blurred to weeks in the bar and she had more than enough credits to cover the tab so the bartend rarely threw her out. Brunnhilde probably spent more time here than in her ship. Hopefully it would still be where she left it. There weren’t many on this forsaken planet that were stupid enough to try and steal from one of The Grandmaster’s favourites. He was crazy but it paid to have his protection.

Knocking back her drink, the sharp liquid burning her throat and numbing what nerves still worked, she sincerely hoped that this would be the end of the conversation so she could go back to enjoying the busy silence. “Thanks for the drink.”

Her head shot up as the man wrapped long, pale fingers around her wrist. “Don’t touch me.”

“My apologies.”

He released her immediately but Brunnhilde felt more trapped by his gaze than she had his touch. There was something familiar in those bright, emerald eyes. In fact, there was something uncomfortably familiar about him in his entirety. Whatever it was, she didn’t want to stick around and work it out. Life was easier out here alone, without attachments or familiarity, and the last thing she needed was another complication.

Despite her reservations, Brunnhilde couldn’t ignore the draw to him. So, against all of her better judgements, she allowed him to buy her another drink – and another, and another. Might as well get something out of his persistence, she decided. And, as the wicked spirits warmed her from the inside out, she soon found herself far more interested in the man.

Loki – she’d forget his name come morning but for now it was sweet on her tongue, familiar in a way that many other titles on Sakaar weren’t – was utterly striking, that she couldn’t deny. She wanted to run her fingers through his black hair, to mark his perfectly pale skin with passionate marks. If only he’d stop talking, then he’d be perfect.

“So, how long have you been here?”

Brunnhilde groaned, only somewhat annoyed that it brought a smirk to his lips. So he thought himself a dangerous man then, or at least a mischievous one. Interesting to know. Knocking back another drink, she replied, “Do you want my full family history or something? Yes, I’ve been here a while. I don’t know how long.”

“Is it home?”

“No.” Loki blinked, surprised by the speed and ferocity of her answer. He raised an eyebrow, urging her to continue. On any other day, she’d wave the questions away and get down to what they were both there for – at least what she assumed he was there for too – but she found herself responding instead. “I lost my home thousands of years ago.”

Oh, Loki really was a dangerous man. He held her gaze, his eyes twinkling with understanding. As if he could ever actually fathom what she’d lost. It felt genuine, though, and that was what made it all the harder to look away. For a moment, Brunnhilde felt as if he truly felt her pain and wanted to do more than simply help her forget with a good – great, she suspected – shag.

Confirming her suspicions, Loki admitted, “I never quite belonged in my realm but now that the throne has fallen, I fear I shall never be welcomed back. All the places I loved will be destroyed and only rubble will remain.”

“Who took the throne?” Brunnhilde asked. She knew most of the war lords and tyrants in this sector, and a good few beyond. “Will the people rebel?”

Loki shook his head. “She has a legitimate claim and will bend those that resist to her will or have them executed. All those years my father spent punishing me for my heritage and the risk he thought I posed to the throne and it was my sister that brought about his ruin instead.”

Brunnhilde frowned, uncomfortably affected by his words. The story of a cruel king and his even crueller daughter hit too close. She gripped her glass, focused on the cool surface against her fingertips. Pushing back the memories, she took a deep breath and muttered heartless condolences for Loki’s loss.

“It is not your fault,” he said, blasé as he waved a hand in the air. She should have guessed before that he had royal blood. They were all the same, never caring for anything more than their own position and power. “There is no one to blame but my father. He should had dealt with Hela long ago. Imprisoning her, hoping she would repent, was short sighted. After all, one cannot reason with the Goddess of Death. Sending the Valkyrie in to subdue her was a wasted effort. The old fool should have ended her when he had the chance.”

All the drugs and drink in the universe couldn’t have stopped the tidal wave of emotion that rolled over her in that moment. This wasn’t the slow, peaceful kind of wave that started at your toes and ebbed upwards, slowly drawing you into the black numbness inch at a time until it was too late to fight back. These were rough seas, vicious swirling currents that pulled her under without warning, drowning her under years of repressed guilt, anger and sorrow.

Brunnhilde shoved Loki aside and all but raced to the door. She had to get out here, out into the fresh air. Gods, when did the air get so thick? And her armour so tight? She had to get back to her ship. She couldn’t stay here. However, with half a bar’s worth of spirits coursing through her veins, she barely made it off the seat before she fell to the ground.

“Get off me,” she hissed, regaining enough control to shove Loki’s unhelpful hands aside. “Don’t you dare touch me.”

“I don’t -” Loki froze. He glared at the mark on her wrist, his awe shifting almost instantly to regret. “My sincerest apologies, I didn’t know… Truly, I meant no offence. What your sisters sacrificed -”

“Their deaths were meaningless.”

Pathetic. That’s what she was. She wasn’t even strong enough to stay furious any more. Her sisters would have risen to the call, returned to Asgard in a blaze of glory to stop Hela once and for all. But Brunnhilde? She couldn’t get out of bed in the morning without a bottle of spirits to help her. The honour and pride she’d once worn was gone now. It died along with everyone else.

All of that anger turned to sorrow and the fight drained out of her. Brunnhilde curled up against the bar, her back pressed against the hard surface, legs stretched out uncaring of who fell over them. She wouldn’t feel it anyway. “They died believing that it would do the universe good. Now Hela’s back, their sacrifice means nothing.”

Loki lifted her chin, as gentle a touch as she had felt in decades. It didn’t belong here on Sakaar. This was a place of sharp edges and traitorous deals, a place where the worst of the worst could hide away from judgement. No one cared and emotions were weaknesses to be exploited.

He opened his mouth, no doubt about to spew some beautiful but inevitable hollow shit, but Brunnhilde silenced him with a kiss. It wasn’t soft, or gentle. It was desperate and hungry, rough as the floor on which they sat. Loki pulled back, eyes wide, curious but also… plotting. Yes. That was it. That was better, she thought. Let him scheme so long as, along the way, it helped her forget just a little bit longer.

She kissed him again and this time he most definitely got the hint.


End file.
